


put some joy upon my face

by 24bookworm68



Series: soft hearts electric souls [2]
Category: Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Lots of dialogue, M/M, Multi, Pining, Sappy, Slice of Life, Trans Character, YouTube, because Angst Is Coming, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 04:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6551467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/24bookworm68/pseuds/24bookworm68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tessa spends a morning on-camera with her boys, and thinks deep thoughts about life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put some joy upon my face

The camera’s weight is familiar and comforting in Tessa’s hand.

It was a birthday present from Sophie, dark blue with a silver T sticker on the side - Sophie’s decorating, not Tessa’s, but she had appreciated it, especially  _ that _ birthday, reeling from her aunt’s death - and it’s become a presence in her life. She shoves her hair back with her free hand, ineffectively, and then grins into the camera. “Gooooood morning internet, I’m Tessa and this is another day in my life, first ever London edition!” She slides out of bed, mentally predicting the inevitable comments on her pizza-printed pajama pants and book-themed bedding. “I’m gonna go roll some cute boys out of bed,” she whispers conspiratorially, stepping into the hallway and banging on Will and Jem’s doors.

The kitchen is cluttered, in a way that makes Tessa quietly revel in its contrast with the stark cleanliness of her childhood apartment. “I’m being healthy this morning,” she says, pouring a heaping bowl of  _ Fruit ‘n’ Fibre _ and then grimacing at the camera, “Not by choice, the only sugary cereal is this coco pop shit Will impulse-bought,” Will, with his standard good timing, walks in then - adjusting his binder under his t-shirt, so Tessa keeps the camera on her cereal, “Which is why we don’t let  _ this guy  _ do the grocery shopping!” 

“Can I live for  _ ten whole minutes _ ,” he grumbles, reaching for the box of chocolate nonsense and promptly shoving a handful into his mouth. Tessa smothers a grin.

Jem stumbles through the doorway in the process of putting a shirt on, yawning so widely that Tessa can almost hear his jaw pop. “Oh, wow, I think I saw an ab. This video’s gonna need content warnings,” she teases, and Jem blinks blearily at her before shaking his head and making a beeline for the coffee.

Will squints - he isn't wearing his glasses - and says, “Is. Is that my shirt?” Jem hums affirmatively. “You’re wearing my shirt.”

“It’s comfortable, and it was in with my laundry.” Jem says absently, glaring at the coffee maker, which has historically proven to have a vendetta against him personally.

Will nods, accepting the point and eating another handful of cereal. “You know, we could go out for coffee,” he mumbles around an unreasonable amount of chocolate.

Jem stops in his tracks, “If you're being sarcastic I can't be held responsible for my actions,” he says calmly, and Will laughs at him.

“Tess, your plans for this video don't prohibit starbucks, right?” Tessa shakes her head in response, trying to use her breakfast to distract herself from thoughts of how very, very nice her boys look standing next to each other like that in the morning sunlight. 

She can't think about that - she can't be with  _ either _ of them, much less both, and she isn't going to entertain thoughts about what she wants and can't have. “I have no plan and we need to wake Jem up somehow, so let’s do it,” she says, stretching and heading back for her room.

“You’d almost think I was a real adult and everything,” she tells the camera after getting dressed, hair tied back so the tight coils of it fall over her back instead of going every which way. She takes a second to stand in the living room doorway and just get a shot of the boys - Will lounging on the couch talking about something with dramatic gestures, Jem curled under a blanket on the armchair, visibly fighting back laughter. “Ready to go?” She asks, and they turn matching grins on her.

Twenty minutes later, coffee in hand, everyone is obviously feeling a little more human. Tessa has long since learned to ignore the weird looks from people over thirty when she’s out filming, but Will says, matter-of-factly, “London’s making me more uncomfortable than usual.”

“That’s saying something, he’s been complaining about it since we moved in,” Jem grumbles from the depths of his hoodie.

“Alright, you know what,” Will says, pushing his glasses up on his nose and pointing at Jem dramatically, “ _ Eight and a half million people _ . Do you know how many people my hometown has?”

“Five thousand,” Jem and Tessa drone in exasperated unison. Will glares at them, and Tessa turns the camera so she can stage-whisper, “He’s made this point before.”

Jem slurps at his drink and says, “Could be worse, I could’ve asked you to move to Shanghai.”

“How many people live in Shanghai, for the viewers?” Tessa asks, bringing the camera as close to his face as she can without making him uncomfortable - she’s learned where the line is, through experience - and he snorts.

He looks at the camera, glances deliberately to Will’s apprehensive face, and proclaims, “ _ Twenty-four  _ million.”

“What the  _ fuck _ .” Will whispers, horrified.

Jem laughs loudly enough to get a stink eye from an old lady two tables over, and Tessa has  _ the worst _ warm fuzzy feeling in her chest. Being happy and being angry at yourself for it at the same time is a disorienting feeling. She comforts herself with the thought that Jem’s laugh is  _ that nice _ and it’s not just her.

She pokes his nose to make sure he’s real, and the scrunchy face he makes in response is unconvincing.

“Good luck ever getting me to visit your parents with you,” Will says, still sounding terrified of the idea of twenty-four million people in one city.

“We already promised that one,” Tessa retorts, “And if I’m going you’re going.”

“Besides, if you don’t come you can’t do your obnoxious foodie thing.”

“Ah, food, my one weakness!” Will says dramatically, and then, “Wait, can’t we just ask your mom to send non-perishables.”

Tessa looks into the camera and says, in her best movie trailer voice, “Shanghai junk food haul, coming to Jem’s channel this summer!” Jem sticks his tongue out at her, and then they’re all laughing, reveling in each others’ company, and even though she’s conflicted and pining Tessa was never this happy back in New York with Aunt Harriet and Nate, not  _ ever _ .

She wants to show this to herself three years ago.

Jem interrupts her deep thoughts, “I love how you’re just  _ assuming _ it would all be junk food, should I be insulted?”

“James,” Will says, calmly, “You once referred to a giant toblerone bar as lunch.”

“Alright, let’s go before somebody yells at us for being loud at nine thirty in the morning, if you’re gonna argue over Jem’s terrible eating habits -”

“ _ Thanks _ .”

“- we should be outside,” Tessa finishes decisively, ignoring the conversation her boys are having with their eyebrows - if she wanted to, she could decode it, probably something about how Jem should take better care of himself and how Will worries too much. Both true, but they’re also both guilty of the reverse. 

Admittedly, so is Tessa. Maybe that’s what a functioning adult household is supposed to be, people worrying too much about each other and not enough about themselves until they figure out the right balance to keep them all afloat. Or maybe she’s being sappy.

London’s beautiful first thing in the morning, she thinks as the boys follow her out into the city, shoving each other lightly, and she can’t keep the affectionate grin off her face. “C’mon, world’s our oyster and all that, let’s be gross tourists for the benefit of my american audience.”

They both groan, but they do it fondly. 

She’s  _ never _ been this happy.

**Author's Note:**

> reminder that you can send prompts for this verse to infernaltrioytau.tumblr.com, and they don't have to be in chronological order!!! (somebody request established relationship fluff, the pining is murdering me)


End file.
